Small Starts
by BecomeMyObsession
Summary: Alone, drunk, and wrecked; Dean's pretty much decided to sleep his birthday away. That is until a rain drenched angel decides a rude wake up call is needed.


_Considering it's past midnight in good 'ol rainy England it's technically not Dean's birthday anymore... but since most of you are Americans (as is the man in question) or those with different time-zones I am hopefully forgiven. I hadn't even decided to write this until 23:30. I was trying to sleep and realised that wasn't going to be possible without some tribute to Dean's Birthday. I may have been awol from SPN fanfiction for a while... but Dean's birthday shall never be ignored! _

_I hope you enjoy. As always unbeta'd and seriously roughly drafted. Also really short... but, alas! Dean needs his birthday fic's up on his birthday! :D._

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_____**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognize. Any relation to my version of the characters and real life persons is purely coincidental. There is no copyright infringement intended.**_

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_-Small Starts-_

'Hello Dean.'

Dean jolted upwards, eyes flashing open and heartbeat erratic. Automatically he felt around for his knife as he scanned the room for immediate danger. His eyes fell on Cas and he swallowed back the sound of relief. 'Jesus Cas, I've told you nearly way to many times _not to do that_.' Usually he would have tagged on an _it's creepy_ or something but he was grouchy, sleep deprived and really didn't want to be awoken from his not so restful dreams.

Sleep was really all he had on the cards right now. Hunting wasn't appetising when all it did was remind you of what you've lost. He'd decided to wait till Crowley found the sword… then maybe he could find something worth his time. He increasingly found himself wondering if he might be losing it.

Though he was still mildly interested to see how the king of Hell could rescue a sword from the largest pool of salt water on the planet.

Now though, he found he was staring at his friend who was standing in the middle of the motel room, drenched. Water droplets from his hair trickled down his face and his trench coat had darkened from a light beige to near brown and was hanging heavily from his body from the weight of the water. Dean, despite the sullen wallowing mood he had been in for the past week, managed to cock an eyebrow in vague amusement. 'Dude, why are you so…wet?'

Cas stood with his hands by his sides, not apparently completely aware of the state he was in, and shrugged. 'I-' He paused, Dean watched him search for the words. 'My car stopped-'

'Again-?' At Cas' nod Dean cracked a larger smile. 'Dude, get a new car.' He could now hear the heavy pitter-patter of the rain hitting the motels window, he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. He must have really been out of it.

Cas, for all his might and power, looked very offended. 'I like my car.'

Dean raised his eyebrows. 'It's a death trap.' He chuckled, the sound croaky and unfamiliar with misuse. The reminder made him sigh, his mood once again down-trodden. He looked away from his friend and stared at the beer bottle which had fallen over when he'd jumped up, his hand must've knocked it over. Trickles of liquid were leaking from the bottle and onto the floor, tracing into the woven fabric of the dirty white carpet. Why white carpet when so many travellers with filthy shoes passed through he had no idea. He come to accept the weird tenancies of motel owners. 'Why are you here Cas?'

'It's January 24th.' Cas spoke bluntly, as if the answer would provide all explanation that Dean needed.

Dean raised an eyebrow and smiled rather bitterly. 'Yeah?'

Cas frowned, confused. 'It's your birthday.' He moved, walking so he was standing just to the right of Dean's vision.

Dean groaned, slumping back against the couch he'd fallen asleep on. The slight dull ache of his back was enough to almost make him regret not stumbling the last few metres to the bed. Though he doubted the lumpy mattress would have made any difference. 'Thanks for the reminder.' He sighed, and gestured towards the overturned bottle of beer and then the empty whiskey bottle on the table. 'That's just what I was trying to forget.'

'Why?'

Dean shook his head, he couldn't explain why he hated this date – it didn't mean anything to him. Not anymore. Not without anyone who really cared. Who was left who even remembered what date it was? Cas? Sam? Sam hated him, he didn't care whether it was January 24th or August the 13th. Wouldn't make a difference. How could he put that into words and explain it to Cas like he wasn't wallowing in self-pity. 'Leave it alone.' He shrugged. 'Come to that, leave me alone.'

Cas shook his head, water flying and splashing Dean on his face. He wiped it away with a frown, blinking the water from his eyes. When he opened them, wincing against the bright light of the lamp he'd forgotten to turn off, he found Cas's hand outstretched, a shiny smooth familiar rectangle object in the palm. He looked at Cas confused, Cas held it out further. 'It's your cell phone.'

Dean rolled his eyes. 'Yeah I know what it is Cas.' He sighed. 'Why are you giving it to me?' He'd left it on the table when he'd entered the motel room, switched it off. He didn't want to hear from anyone. Though he doubted anyone would ring.

'Take it.'

Dean stared at the phone.

'_Dean._'

Dean muttered a curse under his breath but took the phone anyway, holding it in his palm. He looked at Cas. 'Right, now what?'

'Wait.'

Dean raised an eyebrow, but waited. They waited for a few minutes before Dean breathed out heavily in annoyance. 'Look Cas, I don't know what-'

The phone vibrated.

He frowned, and looked down at the now turned on cell phone. 'What-?' He clicked open the message. _From Sam._ He tilted his head and stared at the screen. Sam text him?

'Open it.'

He did.

_Happy Birthday Dean. Don't overkill on the whiskey too much._

Dean felt his stomach twist in emotion and he looked up at Cas, finding himself swallowing back tears. How pathetic. He smiled softly, understanding. 'Thanks Cas.'

Cas nodded, remaining silent.

It wasn't much. A simple text from an obviously still pissed off little brother. But it was enough, for now. It was a start. He clutched the phone tight to him, knowing how ridiculously stupid he looked but not caring. At least he knew there would be no more restless dreams… not for tonight anyway.

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_A.N/ Thanks for reading! Wishing you a Happy Birthday Dean :)._

_- N x_

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_Twitter_: AlmostObsession


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